


my only wish is you

by injoonie



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, HAPPY BDAY VIDHAAA, i doubt the characterizations are accurate rip, i haven't had a chance to play mm yet so, i tried writing angst 'cause ik you like it but idk what happened here, tried my best based on what fam said but idk if i did it right, yeah im sorry this is so short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-20 12:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8249938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injoonie/pseuds/injoonie
Summary: “Is that a cat-shaped cake?” Seven looks tiredly up from his computer, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile.You roll your eyes. “Yes, Captain Obvious. This is a cat-shaped cake, one-of-a-kind, baked by yours truly.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vidha](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Vidha).



“Is that a cat-shaped cake?” Seven looks tiredly up from his computer, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile.

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Captain Obvious. This is a cat-shaped cake, one-of-a-kind, baked by yours truly.”

“Hmmm, can I even trust your baking skills? And what’s the special occasion?”

You stare at him incredulously. “It’s June 11. Isn’t that your birthday?”

You watch as his eyes skim the computer screen, searching for the date and time. 12:03 AM.  Strangely, his posture relaxes then stiffens, and he shakes his head and looks up at you with slightly somber eyes.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I appreciate the thought, but you head on to bed. Birthdays aren’t anything special anyways, so I really don’t know why you bothered.” You have to strain your ears to hear the last part of what Seven mutters. “Especially for someone like me.”

An uncomfortable heat crawls up your neck, spreading to your cheeks.  “Hey, I baked this for you. At least have the decency to try it out. Isn’t that common courtesy? Or do you think that my baking is so bad, you can’t even afford to taste it?”

You’re normally pretty chill, so you don’t know why you’re so upset about Seven’s indifference to your random gesture. He has a way of making blood rush to your cheeks, and the sight of him causes your heart to skip a beat. It’s so disgustingly cliche yet accurate, and all you can do is groan because you sound like a seven year old throwing a tantrum. He’s so annoyingly important, with all his stupid antics, snark, and kindness. He’s somehow found a place in your heart, so you can’t help but feel frustrated that he’s just brushing you off.

“Stop doing that,” you say as you leave the room.

It’s June, but somehow the air feels a tad bit cold on your skin. A sudden warmth at your wrist stops you. You turn around, and your anger deflates like a balloon. Seven looks up at your tentatively, self-doubt and worry clouding his eyes. The pale blue light emitted by the computer casts a soft glow on his features, and he reminds you of a child, small and terrified by monsters under the bed.

Uncertainty isn’t a good look on him, you decide. As you two stand in silence,  you watch Seven’s brows furrow and prepare yourself, because for sure, he is going to try and push you away again. 

Seven’s decision is punctuated by a sigh and the slackening grip on your wrist. You move your other hand and place it on top of his. He tenses up and tries to pull away, but you keep a firm grip on him. 

“Hey, talk to me. I don’t understand why you keep pushing me away. And every time I try and find out, you just find an excuse or run away.”

His red bangs cover his eyes. This is uncharted territory - a Seven you don't know how to deal with. All you have seen is a bright Seven with a constant stream of “lololol.” 

“You-” he begins with a soft sigh. “You're so bright and pure and amazing, and if you knew just how much I-” Seven stops suddenly and raises his head. He stares at you with golden eyes, (eyes that should be reminiscent of the sun, so why do they look so sad?) and he reaches out towards your face. Warm fingers graze your cheek, moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair. His touch leaves trails of fire on your skin, and you feel like you're in middle school again, dealing with your first crush.

“Hey, it's my birthday, right?” he asks.

“Of course, dummy. That's why I baked you a cake. “

“Then, I'm allowed to be selfish for just one day, right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, and that's all you get to say before his arms are wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You lay your chin on his shoulder, and it's kind of uncomfortable but perfect at the same time.

“I'm probably not the right person for you. And what if you get hurt because I can't protect you? How will I sleep at night knowing I'm the reason you feel pain. But I can't help but want, and I hate myself all the more for that. Because I'm not always a good guy, and I can't trust myself to make you happy.”

You listen to him while drawing reassuring circles on his back. Sometimes you want to speak up, argue back and let him know that he's wrong, and that he's the nicest guy you know. That he's fine the way he is. But the raw desperation in his voice stops you, and it feels like all he really needs is to know you're there while he gets all his pent-up concerns off his chest. And it's not what you were expecting, but it's  _ something.  _ It's proof that Seven trusts you and wants you to know more about him. Somewhere along the way, you had begun to see the cracks in his wall of quick wit and ridiculous jokes, and you wouldn't trade anything in the world for it. Seven holds you like you're his only anchor in a sea of doubt and hate, and in turn, you hug him back with all the love you can muster, to show him that even when he says he's the worst, you don't think so. 

“Hey,” you say softly. His only reply is to hold you tighter, as if he's scared you'll disappear. “Don't worry, I'm not leaving. Since I baked a cake though, let's at least not let it go to waste, okay?”

He nods, and his hair tickles your nose. Your eyebrows furrow as you scrunch your nose to prevent a sneeze.

Sudden laughter fills the room, and even though it's a bit strained and too loud, it's a start. 

“What's so funny?”

“Nothing, really. You're just so cute, I don't even know what to do with myself sometimes.” He pauses for a second then wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

You laugh, full and bright. “Here, let me get a candle and a match.”

When you return, Seven is sitting on  his chair, cake in hand. He's staring at it intensely, an unreadable expression on his face. He looks up when you approach but doesn't make a move to run away. 

You stick the candle in the center of the cake and light it. As you sing the birthday song, you watch shadows cast by the flames dance across Seven's face. It's breathtaking.

“How can I love you more than I already do?” The words are almost inaudible, but you hear them right before Seven blows out the lone candle.

Tomorrow might be filled with more pain, and maybe Seven will just keep running away because he's too kind and scared and thinks he isn't deserving. But you'll get your feelings through to him someday, if its the last thing you do. But for today, you're happy enough knowing that he loves you, and that you love him, too.

  
  



End file.
